Demisexuality: What Is It?

 A personal essay by Shoshana Weaver

One girl's journey from feeling broken and different to discovering her demisexuality and how the pieces fit together.

Books are my lifeblood. Their stories have fueled me, shaped me, and inspired me. As a young girl, I read about “Once upon a time”s and “Happily Ever After”s, falling in love and creating a life together. I longed to find that for myself. Like every little girl raised on fairy tales, I dreamt of finding my Prince Charming and a romance of my own.

But when it didn't happen the way I expected, I thought I was broken. Until I found a word that helped me understand more about who I am and why I do the things I do. 

“Demisexuality.” Most people have probably never heard of it. I had never heard of it until I was 22. Some might even say it sounds strange-- my brother once told me it sounds like someone attracted to demi-gods from ancient myths, though that’s not really what it means.

Demisexual People Long For a Relationship - 

But Not Necessarily For Physical Touch

With books as my guides, I found a few boys in my elementary school classes that I imagined as great princes. Each seemed cute and funny, nice and polite.  I never wanted to confess, just enjoy the giddy feeling of loving them in my imagination. Because I knew that, unlike the love in my books, the feelings were just crushes that came and went like the ebb and flow of the tide.

There was one boy though for whom my feelings stayed constant for several years. His name was Hunter. He was quite strapping, with broad shoulders and athletic hands. His jokes made me laugh, and I adored his charming smile. I’m not sure what made him different, but I liked him from fourth grade to seventh. 

Hunter also had a friend named Isaiah. The first thing I noticed about Isaiah was his slightly darker skin and his awesomely curly afro. It wasn’t until seventh grade, however, when we actually had classes together, that I thought of him as more than just “that boy.” I liked his smile and his passion for the things he cared about.  I loved his hair, with more than a little jealousy. 

That year, both of them were in one of my classes, and I enjoyed watching them with their friends. It always made me grin to hear their jokes and see them having fun. On one particular day, though, the fun took a different turn.  The teacher asked a perfectly normal question, though I don’t remember what, and Hunter loudly made a rather rude comment in response. I watched Hunter and Isaiah laughing with their friends, my polite princes shattered beneath my feet, and suddenly I didn’t want to smile anymore. 

All my happy thoughts and little dreams were gone in a flash.

Demisexual People Might Grow Up Feeling Different

As we grew older, my friends continued to tell me about their crushes and all the flirting, daydreaming, and heart-pounding. They could go on and on about how great so-and-so was and how happy every little thing about him made them. I enjoyed listening to their twitterpated ramblings, but sometimes it was hard for me to understand them as more than just stories.

My friends’ stories sounded a lot like the romantic stories I read. I had learned about the joys of dating and love, like many other things, through reading. I read about butterflies in the stomach, pounding in the heart, fireworks in their kisses, and my pounding heart anticipated my own romances walking off the pages of “Once upon a time,” just like they had for my friends.

But it never happened. I never felt butterflies or fireworks. Even the giddy crushes stopped. I felt the same way talking to boys as I did everyone else--awkward but polite. Unless we were friends.

Demisexual People Tend To Date Friends

In between my stories, there were a few boys in high school that talked to me often enough that I felt like we had become friends. As I got to know them better, I would start feeling the first stirrings of giddiness and wonder about a real-life romance with them.  

One boy, Michael, reminded me of Hunter, which made me wary at first, but as I got to know him as a friend I loved how happy he always was and how kind and helpful. He would come to me before class and chat about assignments and after school plans. It made me happy to feel noticed and sought after. But maybe I took too long, waiting to feel comfortable with thinking of him as more than a friend, because, since it was a small high school, it didn’t take long to hear when Michael started dating another girl.

It was the same with the other boys. And knowing they were taken was like the rude comment all over again. All the fluttery feelings and wonder just flipped off, like a light switch. 

I was always happy for them, of course, because they were my friends, but it made me question everything I knew about flirting.  

Demisexual People Don't Get Flirting

I love the affection in teasing and the puzzles of wordplay in books. I laugh at bantering and witty repartee between couples on screen. But real-life flirting continually eludes my understanding more than flirting in stories. Sometimes, I think I understand, but when the reasoning eludes me, I write it off as wishful, prideful thinking.

One time at Cold Stone, I was chatting with the guy making my ice cream. He made me smile but I assumed he was just doing his job. My dad insisted that the guy was flirting with me. When he noticed my seeming obliviousness, he felt so bad for the guy that he gave him an extra tip. 

But even with moments like that, where someone else pointed it out, I still couldn’t figure out what exactly constituted “flirting,” especially if I had been wrong about guys like Michael. How did people know what flirting was? Was it really that obvious? And, if so, did that mean I was just broken or oblivious?

Demisexual People Don't Get Casual Relationships

The older we got, the more my friends wanted to date and the more I wanted to retreat to romantic stories. Thinking about flesh-and-blood boys always reminded me of that light switch feeling and made me wonder if there was something wrong with me.  

Senior year, my friends wanted to go to the Girl’s Choice Sweethearts Dance for Valentine’s Day. I wanted to go, but there weren’t any guys I was interested in. My best friend suggested a boy we ate lunch with since she was asking one of his friends. I agreed, but I felt awkward through the whole thing, the asking, the answering, the day date, the pictures, the dance.  What was the point of going on a date with a guy I didn’t know super well, much less like?

I asked a couple of other guys on group dates with my friends, but I never felt a romantic spark. I tried online dating, but I had a hard time feeling connected to those facts and pictures on a screen. It’s not like I was looking for Prince Charming and Happily Ever After at that point, but was a little spark so much to ask for?

With dating feeling so awkward and pointless, I stopped bothering. Besides, it’s not like guys were asking me out, either. When the time came, I would be open and ready, but for the moment I had other things I’d rather focus on: my family, my friends, my education, my books.

Demisexual People Are Often Considered "Prudes"

For a long time, I didn’t even consider romance beyond dating. Books tend to focus on the growing feelings of love and, in that context, kissing always sounded sweet and romantic, but I never felt inclined to talk about intimacy beyond a kiss. Honestly, though, after learning about the birds and the bees, the topic didn’t come up much anyways.

When one of my best friends got her first boyfriend, I took the opportunity to ask someone who had first-hand experience about all the things I’d only read about. As she talked about how much fun she’d had on their dates, how a night of dancing turned into a nightlong conversation under the stars, I was twitterpated.

Their first kiss was her first kiss, but not his. When I asked, she freely gave me the details of what had quickly become a French kiss. Which made me realize: French kissing is gross. The logistics of sharing tongues and spit is gross. Hearing her describe it, I never wanted to experience it. Ever. And don’t get me started on anything further. 

I’m not trying to dissuade others一let them do as they please一but as for me, I have yet to feel the desire to make that particular part come off the page. Which seemed weird to me, considering how desperately I wanted a romantic relationship, but I tried not to dwell on that. I tried not to dwell on a lot of things, pushing them down and ignoring them because I just didn’t have the answers.

So What Is Demisexuality?

Confused by life, drowning in uncertainty, feeling broken and alone, I was vulnerable to the depression and anxiety that stalked my life. As I questioned my purpose, my identity, my plans, those brutal predators answered back that I was unfixable and unlovable, weak and lazy, stupid and inept. When it felt like everything had turned on me, I turned to what still made sense.

I read. I read for comfort, answers, a spark of light and joy in a growing fog of fear and apathy. I read to feel stronger, happy, loved, desired, powerful, confident, beautiful, NORMAL.

And what better place to find all that than fanfiction, a playground for misfits and dreams?  

One of the things I love about the fanfiction site I use is the story tags. The tags help me find the kind of story I want, like “Meet Cute” or “Slow Burn,” “Magic Derek” or “Demisexual Derek.” One day, hyped up from a reading dopamine rush, I finally researched what those “demisexual” and “asexual” tags actually meant. 

Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in which people experience little to no sexual attraction until after an emotional bond has formed, whether love and romance or platonic and friendship. It’s usually considered on the asexual spectrum, asexual meaning someone who experiences little to no sexual attraction. 

Suddenly, I had a word for how I felt. I had a word that explained my short crushes, their slow beginnings, and their abrupt endings. And I had a community that felt the same way I did, that had gone through the same confusion and broken-feeling as I did and had found meaning and understanding in this word. 

I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t emotionally unavailable, ice-hearted, or oblivious. 

I was Demisexual. 

Demisexual People Value Emotional Bonds

The only problem with discovering my demisexuality via a genre that strives to portray minorities as commonplace is that by the time I understood what demisexuality was I felt like it was a perfectly normal, common concept. I was excited to tell my parents who I had seen lovingly, and without questions, accept my bisexual cousin. 

But they didn’t understand. 

“That’s not a real thing,” my mom said.

“It’s just a phase,” my dad said.

“You just haven’t found 'the one',” my mom said.

It was like they were following the script Tumblr had warned me about. And I felt betrayed. It’s not just a phase or a matter of not having found “the one.”  It’s a real thing, a real label that brought me comfort when I thought maybe I was broken.

Demisexual People May Not Act On Their Attraction The Way Other People Do -

And That’s Okay

Over time, and with many reminders and explanations, my parents have come to understand and accept my demisexuality, as have many family and friends. Sometimes they still get pushy about dating and marriage, but they understand my hesitance better now. 

My experiences give me hope that other people will come to accept it too. Demisexuality is a real thing, and thousands of people identify with it. So, whether you learned something new about yourself, about someone you love, or even just about the spectrum of sexual orientations, I hope this helped.

As for me, I’m going to keep waiting for my best friend before I look for a boyfriend.

Image Credits: Photo by Andres Siimon licensed by Unsplash, Photo licensed by Piqsels, Photo by Magda Ehlers licensed by Pexels, Photo licensed by Piqsels, Made by me but base photo by it's me neosiam licensed by StockSnap, Photo by Edgar Chaparro licensed by Unsplash

Section titles came from ideas in this article: Best Life Online: Demisexual

Other great articles: The Guardian: The Day I Finally Realized I was a Demisexual,  Elle: What it means to be demisexual